The Captive Heart
by ReggieVonHamma
Summary: Partial AU story that covers the post-war Wizarding world. Auror Harry and junior Wizengamot member Hermione no longer communicate. Kingsley uses of his political skill to try to pacify the fractured magical community. Introduces some unique aspects to the Rowling universe. EWE! On major hiatus (Sorry)


**Authors Note: Dear all, this is my first multi-chapter fiction and I would really appreciate your feedback. I am covering some familiar ground in this story but also will hopefully introduce unique features of the Post-war wizarding world. There will be no sure ending at this stage, although I have a fair idea of where I'd like to go. I signify each differing pov with the person's initials. Thank you for reading!**

 **Themes: Loss, political propaganda, slight initial Harry bashing, unique character, multiple povs.**

Chapter 1: A day of recollections

 _23_ _rd_ _December 1998_

 _ **(HP)**_

He looked around his small cramped office and sighed audibly at the jumbled files and scribbled notes. Perhaps tomorrow he would tidy it up but not today. Today he'd be stationed at the Ministry for desk duty via orders directly from the Minister himself. This day, this evil horrible day. It was a grim anniversary of sorts and it hung like a cold mist over him. He knew why he was here, so as not to cause any disruptions or angst for the participants. He wanted to be there, why wasn't he allowed to mourn?

To his right sat 'The File' as he called it, the file that he had finalised three months ago. It had been his first case and he'd followed every lead he could in the hope of some miracle. No, it wasn't just about miracles but making amends. How he deliberately let his friends get exploited and their private lives be used for propaganda purposes. He could blame it on his grief at the time and the stress of it all but he knew better. He'd listened to older, supposedly wiser, voices and consented. Not just consented but been a player in the drama. He can still hear their voices.

" _Look we are losing Harry, we need our heroes. The people need hope and all we can give them is a missing boy and the likelihood of defeat." Lupin passionate voice resonated in the small bedroom at Shell Cottage. "I realise what Kingsley and I are proposing is… errr not orthodox but we are in a war and we must strike back with whatever means we can"_

" _But Professor this isn't right, she won't know and please think of the consequences for her!" I answer back as my angry builds at the impossibility of what I'm being asked to do. We've lost Ron and it doesn't look like any positive news will be arriving soon. Hermione has suffered a nervous breakdown in the face of her… ummm condition. I'm struggling to deal with my own pain and now they want more from us._

" _Harry it is time to put away the childish notions of fair play and self-righteousness. Time is running out and you must see there is no other choice. The Quibbler article on Ron is not inaccurate in the main, just a bit overblown about his actions. He did help save those people and injured a number of Death Eaters. We launched a rescue mission as you know but to no avail. Hermione is in no state to assist the Order in any further missions. This is the only way"_

He remembered crumbling to their demands shortly after. Once the stories were published and the radio interview conducted he knew his actions would doom his relationships with Hermione and the Weasley's. Only Ginny had understood and stayed by his side after the war. He hadn't spoken to Hermione since that awful confrontation on 1st of January. The war had cost him his two best friends and now all he had left was a tenuous relationship with Ginny and his all-consuming Auror work. Realising that the day would only go quicker if he put some work in he reached for the next case file and started reading.

 _ **(KS)**_

Kingsley surveyed the scene in front of him, only a small select group were in attendance for today's ceremony. Only 30 of Ronald Weasley's closest family, professors, friends and allies were here today, plus of course the assigned press reporter and official photographer for the event. To his left he could see the ruins of the Crossed Wands Pub about 200 metres away, an Order of the Phoenix safe house and the last place on earth Ron Weasley had known the comfort of friends. The old 2 storey pub with its thatched roof had embodied the warmth and hospitality of rural wizarding England. It had been run for many generations as a holiday retreat for city-based magical families to escape to during the warmer months. It was located near Barrow Downs, a mixed muggle/magical community, and the Forest of Dean. The forest bordered the edge of the pub's grounds and had given the Death Eaters, that tragic night, excellent cover before they launched their attack.

The memory of the 23rd December 1998 still seemed incredibly fresh in his mind; the news had shattered the Weasley family. The loss of Ron had given a short-term fillip, fuelled by revenge, to the energies of those dearest to him. But now as he gazed at the Weasley family, who occupied the front row of the seated mourners, he could see the grief etched deep on their broken faces. 12 long months and finally we are here. It was time to say goodbye. Kingsley knew he would be speaking soon but he cast his eyes to the young woman seated by his right side. Only the two of them would speak today, he could feel her emotions like a wave as they emanated from her. Her hair was even longer now then during her desperate journey to solve Voldemort's Horcrux puzzle. Her face looked worn and tired, she probably had been dreading today much more than he did. Her clothes were stylish but conservative, fitting her position in the Ministry, yet devoid of any personal touches such as jewellery. He could see her hands, clasped in her lap; give a slight quake as her nervous energy moved through her.

Kingsley reached over and covered her small pale hands with one of his broad coarse black ones. A gentle squeeze of support and then he dragged himself to his feet. It was only a 5 paces to the podium but time seemed to pause as faces turned up to gaze at him. He had given many speeches now in his capacity as Minister of Magic but rarely had he been so personally connected to the family involved. Sucking in a deep breath and bringing his eyes to look at his audience. He could see the official photographer snapping away and the audience start to fidget as it waited for him to speak.

"Today marks a year since the Battle of the Crossed Wands and the capture of Ronald Bilius Weasley. Many of you gathered here today knew him better than I did and I have corresponded with many of you in the recent weeks to gain a deeper appreciation for your Ron. Whilst I thank for your insights and anecdotes, my purpose today is to talk about the 'Public Ron' and what his sacrifice has meant to a rebuilding magical world. In those dark days of Christmas 1997, as the shadow of Voldemort and his mania threatened to crush everything we hold dear, a young pure-blood wizard gave his life to protect the muggle-born and half-blood population of this conflict. When Ron chose to act as the rear-guard for the Order of the Phoenix he knew the odds were against him but nevertheless he shouldered that burden with courage and determination. We do know that his actions allowed the Order members present enough time to evacuate the war refugees to a new safe-house. Without Ron's holding action a massacre would have taken place and dozens of families would still be grieving today. Fighting alone he managed to kill or injure half-a-dozen Death Eaters. When news of his sacrifice and subsequent capture spread through the Wizarding world a new spirit of determination filled our hearts. If one young man, who could have safely sit on the sidelines given his pure-blood status, could stand up against the odds then was stopping the rest of us.

As our history books now record his last words to Nymphadora Tonks were "tell them both I'm sorry and that Dumbledore was right". Ronald was of course referring to Albus Dumbledore famous proclamation that love is the strongest form of magic in existence".

 _ **(HG)**_

The word love breaks me from reverie. Love, the very word sickens me now. It seems so hollow and bleak is this setting. I can't focus on the eloquent words that the Minister is speaking. Ron never really knew how I really felt about him. Never knew that I'd choose him in any other circumstance except the one we had been placed in. Why didn't he understand that we were meant for each other? Because I'd mucked everything up at Grimmauld Place and left what we'd begun together in pieces. But he shouldn't have left given what we had already shared together. A ripple of applause broke out from the crowd and forced her attention back to the proceedings.

"So it is my great honour to unveil this statue of Ronald Bilius Weasley and announce that the Ministry has posthumously awarded him the Order of Merlin (First Class)" Kingsley intoned rather gravely. She knew she'd have to speak soon but wanted to see the statue as well. As graciously as she could in the circumstances she rose to her feet and moved to the left of the raised platform. There before her stood the life-size replica of 'her Ron'. The statue was cast in bronze and showed him in a crouched defensive position with wand in hand. She looked at the face and was amazed at how life-like they had managed to make the statue appear. Of course it lacked the bright red hair and sparkling blue eyes but it was him. A small plaque was affixed to the granite pedestal and contained the basic bibliographic details of his life. Just the basics she thought to herself. No details of how much havoc he'd caused over the years or the stupid jokes told by the common room fireplace or the romantic missteps between them.

"Hermione it is time" the strong deep voice of Kingsley spoke from over her shoulder. Breathing in deeply to steady herself, she turned around made her way to the podium. Normally she felt nervous when speaking in public, even though she always internalised it, but today she just felt numbness.

"Thank you all for attending today and I am speaking not just on my own behalf but a representative of the whole Weasley family. I'd to thank for them allowing me this privilege", she looked down at their faces and bowed her head in acknowledgement.

"Many years ago I met a boy and hated him on principle. He was everything I disliked, grubby, lazy, ill-disciplined and ill-tempered. But life has a funny way of drawing people together and it wasn't long before we were great friends. We shared many great adventures during our time at Hogwarts and I believe drew closer together than what best friends normally do. But our lives were never going to be easy being so closely allied to Harry Potter. We had things to do and villains to conquer. Time never seemed to be right for us and unfortunately we can never have that time again". She could feel her heart beat start to race as her old feelings of hurt and pain came flooding back. _'Keep it together'_ echoed through her mind and tried to push down her emotions, at least until she could get off the stage.

"Ron's family would want people to remember him as a playful, cranky, charming, always hungry, adventurous, loyal, conflicted, jealous and wonderful young man. Ron was taken from us all at an age when the whole world should have been his stage. We will never know what he could have achieved or the hearts he could have broken. I personally want to remember the real Ron, not some story book hero who gave his life for others. Because I'm still angry about it and may never forgive him for leaving us so soon. He should be standing here today with us to remember the fight for freedom. There are no real winners in war, not when all of the costs are tallied. I am lucky, very lucky as Ron left me with a gift of my daughter Rose. A gift he never even knew existed. If there is a magical afterlife I hope he is watching today. That he can feel all of our collective love and sadness. That he finally knows what he meant to us all. Thank you for being here today and in closing I would like to read out a short poem".

 _If I Should Go_

 _If I should go tomorrow,_

 _It would never be good-bye,_

 _For I have left my heart with you,_

 _So don't you ever cry._

 _The love that's deep within me,_

 _Shall reach you from the stars,_

 _You'll feel it from the heavens,_

 _And it will heal your scars_


End file.
